Frankenstein's final wish
by strixvanallen
Summary: In the middle of the Swiss Alps, a young traveler enters a shop with the sign "Frankenstein and Son - Clockmakers". He carries with him the final wish of a dying man. Will he be able to deliver it, despite the interruptions of the overzealous clockmaker?
1. Chapter 1

**Frankenstein's final wish**

_Somewhere in the Swiss Alps, 18-._

The young traveler looked at the clockmaker shop with the "Frankenstein and Son – Clockmakers" and nodded. It was the correct village. It had to be. He was travelling around the Swiss Alps for a while and couldn't help but think that the name "Frankenstein" was more common than it should be.

There was an "open" sign on the door and he entered the shop. A young man was polishing a clock with so much care that the traveler pretended he was admiring the clocks and pocket watches in the showcase. Some of them were stunningly beautiful and interesting. Suddenly, the young man put the clock down and asked, happily:

– Good afternoon, sir! How can I help you?

The traveler came closer and had his voice frozen in his throat when he saw that the half of the clockmaker's hair was whitish. He must have stared hard, because the young man immediately enlightened him, in good spirits:

– Everyone wants to know about the hair. It was an accident with peroxide. I liked the look, so I kept it. Now, may I ask what happened to _him_?

– H-Him? – the traveler asked, mortified.

– Yes! – the two-colour-haired youth shouted dramatically – _Him_!

As he said that, he snatched the pocket watch of the traveler by the chain and brought it close to his right ear.

– Hmmm… This big boy is not good. Not good at all. Five minutes delay every morning, huh?

– Yes, but…

– These cheap mechanisms always do that. You bought it in London, right?

– Yes, but…

– Tsk. Figures. The good news is that it's easy and cheap to fix. I'll do that in a moment. The bad news is that you'll probably have to bring him back next year, or simply buy a better watch. I have plenty, if you are interested.

– But…

– ELSA! Bring me the tools, we have a 1-6-4-3!

A smiling young woman came from a door in the back of the shop carrying a toolbox. She picked the clock and heard it closely, too.

– I guess it's more of a 3-6-4-3 – she said, after a few seconds.

– BUT! – the traveler tried again, with no avail.

– Nonsense – the young clockmaker interrupted him. – I'm the genius clockmaker here. I say it's a clear… – he put the clock in his ear again and completed his sentence with a defeated voice: – ...a clear 3-6-4-3.

– Told you so, Franz – the girl said, happily, as she opened the toolbox.

– Franz? – the traveler shouted, managing to interrupt the duo. – Are you Franz Frankenstein?

– Of course, dear customer – he said, bowing. – I'm the "son" in the "Frankenstein and Son" sign. But I thought everyone in town already knew that. Now, back to the watch…

– No, no, no, we won't start it again – the traveler snatched his watch back, angrily. – I didn't come here because of that old watch. I don't want it fixed. I don't care. I'm used to it.

– You don't want it fixed? BLASPHEMY! – Frankenstein shouted and seemed ready to physically assault his customer. Thankfully, the girl Elsa put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head in a firm "no". She looked to the traveler prompting him to continue and, feeling grateful, he obliged:

– Sorry, we started it in the wrong foot. Let me introduce myself and explain why I'm here. My name is Richard Walton. I came all the way from England to give you a part of your father's inheritance that was in my family's house years. If I did the math right, you are twenty-one by now, so you can receive it in person.

– My father's… what? – Frankenstein tilted his head. – Look, my father is _alive_.

– He is… oh boy – the young Walton scratched his head, looking embarrassed. – Oh boy. You don't know. But it's too late. It will be awkward, but it has to be done. Look, I'll tell my story and you decide what you want to do with it.

No one tried to stop Walton, so he took it as a sign to go on.

– My father died a few years ago. His name was Robert Walton. He was a sailor and would often write to my aunt, his sister, telling her all about his travels. There was a series of letters that he wrote, about twenty years ago, that were frankly incredible. It was about a certain Victor Frankenstein that my father rescued near to the North Pole. In the beginning, it was innocent enough. He would just tell about the man, about how he was gentle and friendly, and about how he was pursuing an unknown enemy.

"Things started to become weird when my father started mailing letters with chapters of Frankenstein's autobiographic confessions. I won't tell anything about them because they have to be read to be believed. It's… It's so strange, so… impossible. I can't say that I believe in them, but at the same time… Never mind. I have a copy of the letters with me, since I figured out that you would want to know everything about them, you can read them and form your own judgment.

"The thing is, a little after telling his story, this Victor Frankenstein died, but before he did, he made my father a final wish: he asked dad to go in a certain address in Ingolstadt and put all the objects that he could find there in a crate. That crate would be delivered to Frankenstein's executors, so they could give it to his heir. He also wrote and sealed a letter that should be opened only by a certain 'Franz'. He said to father that his heir would know who this Franz is."

At this point, Franz Frankenstein had his eyes wide open. He was going to say something, but gave up quickly. Walton resumed his narrative:

– Well, my dad made the trip to Ingolstadt as soon as he could and crated everything he found in this address, minus the furniture. The thing is, he couldn't locate the lawyers that should receive the crate, at first, and had to bring it home. When he finally found them, he died before he could ship the box. I was just a baby then.

"Some months ago, I was clearing our basement when I found the crate with the 'Frankenstein' label on it. It had a sealed letter attached, but nothing more. I'm so sorry, but I had to break the seal and read the letter to understand what this crate was, and that's when I discovered everything about my father's promise. The letter also gave me some hints of where I could find you, and that's why I decided to deliver it in person. This way, I could be sure that there wouldn't be any more mistakes. Here you have the sealed letter. I'll bring a pack with the copies of the letters and your crate, and you decide what you do with them. It's out of my hands"

– Wait – Franz Frankenstein finally spoke. – Before I read this, I have to make sure I'm the rightful owner of this thing. So, tell me: was this Victor from Geneva?

– Hm, yes, I recall he was.

– Was his little brother killed by a servant of his family?

– He mentions it in one letter, but he claims she is innocent.

– Did he have a younger brother called Ernst?

– I don't remember, but this name _is_ familiar.

– See, Elsa? – the clockmaker grasped his female friend's arm. – That's why, when father and mother are talking about my uncle Victor, they always change the subject when I enter the room. I always thought that they were trying to "protect me" from a grisly story full of murders, but never could make them squeeze much information. Now I'll know. Maybe uncle Victor was a psycho?

– Wait, your _uncle_? – Walton cut him, incredulous. – Your "father" is the elusive Ernst Frankenstein?

– Elusive? – Franz raised an eyebrow. – You mean that no one knows he is living here? Nonsense. What would be the harm on that?

– You have to read my father's letters – Walton said, firmly. – You know what, I changed my mind. Read them first, and save that one with the broken seal for later.

– Whatever you say – the young Frankenstein said, with a pleasant smile. – I'll read them as soon as possible.

– Great! I'll bring everything here. I have a feeling that you might want to discuss things with me after you read it all, so I'll stay in the village for two or three days. I don't know much more than what is written in the letters, but I _did_ some research in Geneva and Ingolstadt. I'll tell you some things that I discovered there, if you wish.

With the help of Franz and Elsa, Walton carried the crate to a kind of shed that Franz indicated as the right place for it. There were all kinds of tools, materials, gears and unfinished clocks all around.

– It's my workshop – Franz explained. – I make most of the clocks and watches we sell here. Father only fixes the broken ones. He's not much into clockmaking, you know, Elsa and I do most of the work around here. It seems that, after my grandfather's death, he moved here to live with a relative and this relative passed the clock business to him.

– I see – Walton said, biting his lower lip. – If you need me, I'll be in that nice inn that I said when I got to this village. See you.

– And about your defective watch…

– _See you_.


	2. Chapter 2

Elsa Klein was the daughter of the Frankensteins' cook. She was raised with Franz and they were best friends since childhood, as she tolerated all his quirks and had a few of her own. Elsa was Franz's assistant since ever and the two were so productive together that Ernst Frankenstein kind of let her work at the shop with Franz, instead of keeping her in the kitchen with her mother. Officially, her job was to keep the shop clean, but that's just because old Ernst would rather kill himself than to admit that the girl was a skilled clockmaker on her own right.

Franz and Elsa were so used to share everything that, after the young man finished the first of the letters brought by Walton, he didn't even notice that he handed it to her. He did it with every letter, and the young woman read them all with him. They read eagerly and lost track of the time. It was a testament to their eccentricities that no one assumed that the young couple was locked for hours in the workshop doing _improper_ things. Franz's and Elsa's parents were mostly worried that the two of them would be so distracted building a new clock that they would let a big fire start and almost burn the house to the ground. Again.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Yes, the reading material was absorbing, but they were more careful with the candles now. After they read all letters but the one with Franz's name on the envelope, they had to stop and breathe deeply. It was almost three in the morning.

– Oh. My. God – was all that the girl could say.

– I know, right? – he retorted. – So, uncle Victor wasn't a psycho after all. Well, not the kind of psycho that everyone says he was, at least. I still think that making a huge human being out of corpses is a little, uh, _sick_. And then, he gave it life. I mean, forget all about the rest. The other letters barely have any importance. He gave that thing LIFE. Jesus, how can anyone pay attention to all inane things that came later? It was the greatest human achievement of the history of EVER.

– I don't think that all those murders are inane – Elsa objected quietly.

– I know – Franz waved, dismissively. – They were a cautionary tale against abandoning you creations after all the trouble you had to make them. If it's real, Elsa, imagine the treasure we have in this crate! – He caressed the wooden box. – I'm sure it's the equipment of the laboratory that he used to make the creature. Uncle Victor's words in these letters imply that he made the creature in his own house, but of course it wouldn't be feasible. He probably rented a small flat in a secluded place where the corpses' stench wouldn't bother anyone.

– Do you seriously believe in all this?

He looked a bit crestfallen.

– I know I shouldn't. But it would be great if it was true, wouldn't it? And old Walton did see the creature.

– Or so he says – she remembered him. – I want it to be true, but we both know that the chances are minimal. Walton's son did say that he had some facts to give us. Maybe we can know for sure after hearing him.

– Maybe… Help me to open the crate. I'm so curious that I won't sleep if I don't have at least a peek on what we have there.

Both worked hard to free the lid of the box. There was an assortment of medical and chemical instruments inside, some of them ominously stained. A book was carefully positioned on the top of everything. It had only a "Victor Frankenstein, 17-" written on the cover. Inside, it was covered in lots of notes. The two youths didn't read much of them, but the few they read gave the two of them a deep respect for old Victor. Elsa summarized it better:

– This guy was _crazy_. But he also was _brilliant_.

– Exactly my thoughts – Franz said, and he kissed his letter. – I'm fighting with my eyes to stay awake. I'll save this letter for tomorrow. Let's sleep. Father will wake us up very early tomorrow.

Walton woke up with the first rays of sunshine in the next morning and couldn't sleep again. After much reluctance (he didn't want to seem desperate), he found himself wandering in the village, waiting for the time that the clock shop would open.

When it did open, the young man didn't enter it immediately. He spent ten or so minutes pretending that he was admiring the beautiful sight of the mountains and _then_ entered it.

He found Franz Frankenstein reading his letter, with Elsa following him over his shoulder. It was a relatively short letter, and Walton already knew it form memory:

_"__My dearest Franz, _(it read)

_If you are reading this, it means that we've never met after your first day of life. I know it is God's punishment for my sins. Since I abandoned my ugly and unwanted creation, I was condemned to never get near the creation I was proud of._

_Please, believe me that, for those few hours that Elizabeth and I had you in our arms, we loved you for an entire life. You were everything to us, and that's why we had to send you away._

_At this time of my life, I was a marked man. I knew that everything I loved was being destroyed by the fiendish abomination I brought to the world, and you would be no exception, had you stayed with us._

_I had to lie a little to your mother to convince her to let you go, but only a little. Since we weren't officially married when you were born, I explained her that there would be a scandal in our family, something that would hurt everyone, including you. My plan was simple: Ernst would take you and "go to the university". In reality, he would live in a village in the Alps with a distant relative of mine, a clockmaker that wanted an apprentice. Ernst would take care of our baby for a while, until we got properly married. Then, Elizabeth and I would travel to the Alps and "adopt" a cute little boy when the coast was clear. I hoped that I would be free of my nightmares by then._

_Fate didn't smile to me, though, and our plan would never come to an end. Elizabeth was killed by that demon and I wouldn't dare to reveal to him that you existed. I was sure that he would kill you in a fit of jealousy._

_I've been tortured by your absence since the day you went away, my son. Every time I feel that I should stop pursuing the creature, I remember you. I remember I owe you a world free of his menace and I go on._

_I asked this gentle Captain Walton to pack the things that I keep in my old laboratory and give them to you. It includes my notes on the process of making my creature. I should have destroyed them, but I couldn't. I don't trust my judgment on this anymore. I didn't tell everything I told to Walton out of leisure. I didn't ask him to take notes for nothing. I intended it to be a warning to you. Ask him to show you my story. You will know me. You will know the consequences of my work. I can only hope that you will be wiser than me and give my notes the destiny that suits them better._

_Don't be the same ambitious fool that I was, my son. Remember that nothing is more important than your loved ones. I don't wish to my worst enemy the torments I'm feeling right now. Live a long and happy life._

_Give my love to Ernest, who gave up on everything to help me. I hope my curse never reach him, as I hope that the blood that runs on your veins never brings you to my dark path._

_I sincerely and deeply beg your forgiveness, dearest Franz._

_Victor Frankenstein_

_PS: The captain doesn't know that you are my son. I wouldn't dare to reveal that to him, knowing that the creature may outlive me and look for you. The story I told him doesn't mention you, for your own protection. Don't mention anything to him, if you ever meet each other in person._"

When Franz finished reading the letter, he stared into nothing for a while. Then, he mumbled something like:

– Uncle Victor was my father – he said, finally. – That mad scientist was my father. It is… It is…

– There, there – Elsa patted his back, with a look of pity.

– It is…

– I'm sorry you had to know this way – Walton said, blushing.

– It is… – suddenly, Franz's face changed to a maniacal grin – It. Is. Awesome!

– What? – but Walton and Elsa gasped.

Franz Frankenstein put one foot in his chair and the other in the counter. He started to talk like he was in a Shakespearean monologue.

– Don't you see? If it's true that he was my father, I have a mission! I have a purpose! I have to redeem my family's name!

– You… what? – Walton was still shocked.

– If your story is right, people in Geneva think of us Frankensteins as a kind of cursed family, with a bloody story of murders and madness. I'm having none of that. I'll discover the truth of my father's story and show everyone that he was not mad, nor a killer. Maybe a liiiiitle mad, but no one is perfect.

– You are taking it surprisingly well – Walton was definitely afraid, now. – Aren't you angry with your adoptive parents for hiding this from you?

– No – Franz waved his hand. – I totally understand why they would want to keep this story from an imaginative child. If I had heard this story before, God knows how obsessed I would be about that, in an unhealthy way. I can respect that. Now, I'm older than my father was when he supposedly created his creature. I will be obsessed in _healthy_ way. Besides…

Without any warning, Franz burst into a song about how he always felt inadequate and displaced in this small village, how Elsa was his only true companion and how making increasingly elaborated clocks was the only passion that could keep his creative impetus controlled. The song took a more triumphant tone when he explained that this letter explained it all, that he felt more motivated to make a difference in the world with his talents. The lyrics fitted the rhythm so well and had so many good rhymes that it was hard to believe that it was improvised.

– He does that often? – Richard Walton asked Elsa in the lowest voice he could manage.

– At least once a week – she answered, with a smile. – It's one of the things about him that I find most adorable.

The young Englishman refrained himself to point out that "adorable" was not exactly the word he was looking for. After the end of Franz number, he produced a small envelope from his coat and put on the counter.

– You said you want to know the truth about your father. Well, when I was in Geneva and in Ingolstadt, I collected some clippings from local newspapers. You may find them… informative. They are all in this envelope. I don't want anything to do with this matter anymore. I gave you your legacy. I fulfilled my father's duty. I'm going back to England to live a normal and uneventful life, now.

– You are an angel, dear sir! – Franz crushed his hand in a painful handshake. – I don't even know how I can thank you!

– Just… Just don't sew a monster out of corpses and bring it to life, all right? – he joked nervously. Franz laughed out loud.

– Oh, you have my word. It's messy and inefficient. I didn't read much into father's notes, but he seemed to have used a personal variation of an alchemical process that creates golems. You don't need to make a golem out of human parts. Clockwork pieces are much more durable and reliable. Besides, what the use of creating a human in a non-natural way, when the natural way is more efficient? Now, if we can animate separate parts and use them as spare organs…

At this point, Walton eyes were the size of plates. Franz laughed again and hugged him by the neck.

– I'm just messing with you, you silly. There's no evidence that my father wasn't hallucinating the whole thing. And I don't want to become a modern Prometheus or anything. I'm way more practical and down-to-Earth. You can return to your country in peace and know that you did what was right. Oh, and by the way…

He snatched Walton's clock again. Elsa appeared out of nowhere with her tool box and Franz tossed the watch to her.

– She will fix it in a moment. I simply can't let you walk out of this shop with a defective watch that is so simple to fix. It would ruin our reputation. And I know exactly what I can give you as a reward!

Before the English traveler could utter a protest, Franz picked a box under the counter and opened it solemnly, revealing a seemly plain pocket watch:

– I'm giving you one of my best works. He is simple, discreet and practical. This little guy here marks the hours, minutes and seconds, but that's not all. If you turn this disk here, you move that small hand to any position you feel like, see? Once the hour hand reaches the same position as this small hand, like this…

A loud bell started to ring inside the watch, startling Walton.

– See? This way, my boy can wake you up every morning, without failing. And look at this little metal ball here. It looks like it's randomly loose in this gutter, but it's a magnetic ball. It always point north, making this watch a compass. Besides, he is all sealed, making him water-proof. I would put here some other features, but I wanted him to be light and durable, and too many mobile parts would make him short-lived. I know he's not visually stunning, but this way, no one will try to steal him from you.

When Franz finished his demonstration, Elsa returned Walton's old watch.

– As good as new – she said, happily.

The young traveler picked his watches – the old and the new – and waved the couple of friends a farewell. He was starting to fear for his sanity if he spent more time among those two. He thought that Franz Frankenstein would be a little more, uh, skeptical about the whole deal and was prepared to at least put some doubt in his mind to make him curious. He definitely wasn't prepared for what he found. Franz was _crazy_.

In hindsight, giving who was his real father, Walton shouldn't be that surprised.

After he crossed the door of Frankenstein and Son - Clockmakers, he felt suddenly happy with himself and with the world. His mission was complete.

Then, he heard the strong voice of Franz inside:

– Now, Elsa, be a good girl and find for me these blueprints for a clockwork automaton. I'll pick this letter and make a scene with my parents. I'm not angry with them, nor I think less of them for hiding everything, but if I don't make a scene about my adoption, they will probably think that I'm _weird_ or something.

Walton started to run without looking behind him.


End file.
